


Tangled In The Webs Of Love

by MoonlightOracle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Parker, Caught, Cinnamon Roll Peter Parker, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dry Humping, Edging, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Peter Parker, Kissing, Legal Peter Parker, Love Bites, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Neck Kissing, Overstimulation, Peter Parker is a sweet innocent angel who deserves all the love and attention in the world, Peter is a cute awkward oblivious mess, Peter is a slut but is very shy and blushy about it, Petey is one horny boi, Polyamory kinda, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Precious Peter Parker, Sexual Content, Smut, Softness, Sub Peter Parker, Submissive Peter Parker, This actually has plot though, Virgin Peter Parker, but it’s okay bc the avengers help him out, everyone just wanna give their baby boy a good time, thigh riding, well not anymore he ain’t ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightOracle/pseuds/MoonlightOracle
Summary: A fic in which Peter hasn’t yet revealed his identity to the Avengers— but the moment he takes off his mask, everyone loses their collectiveshit.AKA, Peter looks like an angel sculptured by the Heavens themselves and everyone can’t help but fall head over heels in love with their pretty little spider.





	1. Invitation to movie night

**Author's Note:**

> I really couldn’t help myself...

Tony hovers in midair, aiming his repulsors at the doombots and blasting them to smithereens while Clint perches on a rooftop ledge, firing his explosive arrows into the crowd of robots swarming the street, the explosions creating slight tremors across the ground that nearly knock everyone off their balance. 

 

Steve and Natasha dash about, taking them down one by one and Bucky crushes one of the bot’s heads in his metal fist, casually flinging its body to the side where it slams into a wall, completely shattered. 

 

Meanwhile, Sam surveys the area from above when he comes across a hoard of doombots scurrying off into the inner city, where most of the civilians had been evacuated to.  

 

“Stark? Need some of your help here, man. The bots are escaping.” 

 

“Uh yeah, no can do Birdy, I’m a little bit occupied right now,” Tony grits out, the sound of his repulsor blasts echoing through the comms.

 

Sam sighs, spreading his wings wide open as he glides down to shove past the cluster of bots. One of them grabs onto his leg but he quickly shoots it off, sending it crashing to the ground below. “Okay, anyone else willing to lend a hand?” 

 

Nat moves gracefully like a cat as she stuns the bots with her widow bites, electrical sparks flying into the air. “Sorry Sam, same here.” 

 

“Me too,” Steve echoes. 

 

“Me three, would give ya’ a hand but I’m kinda using it right now,” Bucky says, punching at the same time he lifts his muscular leg high up and swoops it around in a 360 degree circle to take down the surrounding bots. 

 

“Ha, good one,” Clint sniggers, as does Tony. 

 

Steve mutters quietly in the background, voicing his concern. “Now isn’t the time, Buck.” 

 

“Oh c’mon, Cap, a little mid-battle banter too much for you to handle?” 

 

“No, I’m just saying we should stay focused, Tony. This is the largest number of doombots we’ve ever faced, and the last wave a few months ago wasn’t even _half_ this size.” Steve expresses, using his shield like a glorified frisbee to cleanly cut through the robot’s body. 

 

“Ah, so I _knew_ I wasn’t going crazy,” Clint remarks. “It definitely feels like there are a lot more of them this time round.” 

 

The battle continues on steadily, and Sam whines, trying to shoot at the bunch of withdrawing robots but some of them keep slipping through and getting further away. “Seriously? You’re all busy?” 

 

But before anyone could reply, a familiar red and blue clad vigilante swings down and webs up the stray doombots, successfully trapping them. He lands on top of a truck in his signature landing pose, immediately preparing for action. “Need some help?” Peter asks. 

 

“God, yes, Spidey. Thanks for that.” Sam breathes out, relieved by Spider-Man’s arrival. “Could you clear up the rest by the perimeter for me? They’re trying to escape. I’ll handle the ones here.”  

 

Peter swings in between the buildings, “Sure, no problem. I wasn’t that far away in the neighbourhood, and I heard about what was happening so I quickly came to see if I could make myself useful.” he explains. 

 

“Well, your assistance is much appreciated, my dude.” 

 

Once all the doombots had been incapacitated, destroyed and gathered up, the group of superheroes make their way to the centre of the road that’s littered with rubble and debris. 

 

“God, these primitive pesks were so _annoying_ ,” Tony complains, flying downwards to land his armour on the ground. “They’re like ants, crawling about everywhere - gets on my damn nerves.” 

 

“Don’t let Scott here you say that now, Tony,” Sam snorts from above.

 

“Eh, Stuart Little’s fine with it,” the billionaire shrugs. “I think. Anyways, this took way longer than necessary, and it looks like a certain spider’s been more helpful than the majority of us.”

 

As soon as Tony said that, Peter thwipped a web to land beside the man, colour rising to his cheeks. “O-oh, it’s really nothing. I was just doing what I can,” he replies nervously.

 

Tony’s faceplate lifts up to reveal his face, and he had raised an eyebrow. “Too modest for your own good. Take the credit, kiddo. Oh, that reminds me, you wanna join us at the Tower later on tonight? It’s designated movie night, and we have them every Friday. Been meaning to ask you but it either kept slipping from my mind or you kept slipping away.”

 

At this, Peter blushes even more. Ah, so it was obvious that he’d been actively avoiding them at some point. He didn’t really mean to, but he supposes his agitated and anxiety ridden self kept telling him to steer clear of the big leagues, afraid to do something wrong or to get in their way. 

 

But after many praises and reassurances that consisted of everyone telling him that he’s fine and that he should _‘Chillax, Spidey. None of us are going to be taking you away and locking you up for your illegal arachnid activities, okay?’_ Peter heaved a massive sigh of relief, and was seen more frequently with the Avengers. They’ve fought numerous battles together now, too many to count.   
  


Shaking the thoughts from his head, Peter turns around and stares straight at Tony, his jaw agape, white lenses widening.

 

“W-What—really? You’re inviting me?” He’s been to the Tower many times before obviously, usually for debriefs and business as such, but has never been formally invited like _this_ , and for things like _this_ . ‘This’ being a _freaking movie night with the Avengers, oh my god._

 

“Of course. You did a real good job today.” 

 

“I agree. You’ve fought hard, Spider-Man, and helped us a great deal,” Steve says from behind, walking up to the pair. Natasha and Bucky are seen not too far away, scouring for anymore of those pesky robots while Sam lands carefully on the ground in front of them, his wings folding away into the pack on his back.

 

“Wait, what’s this I heard about movie night?” Sam questions the group slowly gathering together.

 

“Oh, Tony was just inviting our Spidey dearest here if he wanted to join us for the movie marathon tonight,” Clint informs him, picking up his arrows. “Which I’m all in favour for. You gotta be there, man!”

 

“Ohhh! So that’s what it is, in that case, yeah! Spider guy, You’re totally welcome.” Sam says, smiling.

 

But Bucky steps forward and intervenes, resting his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Actually, you might want to run away as far as you can, since sometimes they’re a complete disaster—”

 

“Well maybe because a certain _someone_ decided to burn the whole floor down by testing their cookie baking abilities—I mean seriously, how the _hell_ did that go wrong?” Clint accuses, staring right at the person in question.

 

Tony gapes, looking scandalised. “ _Hey!_ That was only _one_ time—”

 

“Oh no, it was _three_ consecutive times, Tony,” Nat reminds, smirking in amusement. “I’ve been keeping count.” 

 

“Oh, well I’m _terribly_ sorry for wanting some cookies to snack on while we’re watching—”

 

“You should’ve let Bucky make them instead, his are the absolute best—hmm I’m so hungry now, just thinking about those orgasmic double chocolate chip cookies—” Sam cuts off Tony, his voice fading off into the background as Steve walks closer to Peter.

 

“Just ignore them, Spider-Man,” Steve sighs exasperatedly, but hint of fondness is evident in his tone. “The offer is still there, if you’d like to join us.”

 

Peter is standing there motionless, as if trapped in a daze, but soon returns back to his senses. “O-Oh wow, um of course! I’d love to come, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be an intrusion or anything.” 

 

“You’re never an intrusion, kid,” Tony states firmly, standing next to Steve. “Know that the Tower is a home to you, as well.”

 

Peter grins, and even though his face is covered, everyone is able to feel his beaming smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Once again, it’s Tony. And it’s not a problem. So, you returning with us, or...?”

 

“Ah, is it okay if I come over in a bit? Got some things I need to sort out first,” Peter hastily replies, getting ready to swing away.

 

Tony gently smiles. “That’s alright. See you in a while, then.”

 

“Bye Spider dude!”

 

A few other ‘byes’ are heard as Peter flips away into the air, smoothly gliding past the high rise buildings. His body may be a tad bit sore from the battle earlier, but all that he can feel now is excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

 

Oh man, he’s never been so thrilled in his entire life. Personally invited to an Avengers movie night? Peter swings all the way home with the giant smile from earlier still plastered over his face.

  
  



	2. The reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))

Peter swiftly scales the side of the Avengers Tower, gradually nearing the top. As he was about to knock on the glass like he usually does whenever he visits, the large window pane is already opening up—as if predicting his arrival—letting Peter crawl inside with ease. He lands on his two feet with a gentle thud in the penthouse common room, slinging the backpack he wore off his shoulders into his hands.

 

**“Welcome back, Spider-Man. It’s been a long time since your last visit, I hope you’ve been well.”**

 

“Hey FRIDAY. I’ve been really good, thanks,” Peter replies, head tilting up at the ceiling before gazing back down to the people in the room before him. “Hi, everyone.”

 

Everyone that Peter had seen earlier in the day are lounging around, looking to him and giving soft smiles and hello’s.

 

Although there are a few other faces mixed in—Scott, Wanda, Vision, Thor and Rhodey are here too.

 

“Ah, there you are,” Tony says, walking out from the kitchen area with a beverage in one hand and a StarkPad in the other. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

 

“Sorry I took quite a while. Is it okay if I have a shower here? I didn’t get a chance to have one before I left,” Peter asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Course it is. The bathroom is down the corridor, take the first left, and then it’s the last door to the right.”

 

“Do you need any change of clothes?” Steve inquires thoughtfully.

 

“No, it’s okay, I brought some with me in my bag. Thank you anyway. I’ll be right back!”

 

Seeing Peter trotting down the hall, getting further and further away, Rhodey speaks out.

 

“Always so polite, that kid. He’s in university, right?”

 

“Yeah, think so. You don’t see many people his age with actual manners nowadays,” Sam chuckles. “I think you ought to learn from him, Clint—you’re deadass decades older than him and yet still somehow have the maturity of a 10 year old.”

 

Clint gasps in fake offence, clutching his heart exaggeratedly. “What a horrible thing to say! No popcorn for you later! Nat, are you hearing this? Sam is bullying me again.” He crosses his arms, purposely acting like a child.

 

Natasha all but smirks in amusement, as do many others in the room.

 

Scott can’t help the quiet snort that escapes him. “Don’t worry Clint, Sam’s just salty that he doesn’t get the honorary title of Birdman #1.” He reassures him.

 

A few minutes pass with idle chatter here and there, until Peter walks back into the large living room, wearing a casual white tee and loose black sweatpants. However, he’s still wearing his mask.

 

Bucky pats the empty seat on the sofa beside him, to which Peter eagerly jumps over to claim.

 

“Hey Spidey, why don’t you take off your mask? I know you have a secret identity and all that jazz—but it’s safe with us, you know.” Clint suggests.

 

“Yeah dude. We’ve all known each other for a while now. Doesn’t it get stuffy in there?” Sam inputs.

 

Peter ponders for a bit, and it’s never actually occurred to him that he hasn’t revealed his identity to the Avengers yet. It’s just always been a habit of his to wear his mask around them, so much so that he completely forgot about it and must’ve put the mask on subconsciously after his shower. 

 

Before… he would’ve held onto his secret identity like a lifeline, possibly even taking it to the grave, unwilling to reveal it to anyone. Too many variables were involved - what if someone he thought he could trust told everyone? What if his identity got out and the people he loved were targeted? Anything could happen, and so to stop it from even being a possibility of occurring, it would have been better off never revealing the true face behind the Spider-Man mask in the first place.

 

But now… 

 

Things have changed. 

 

May isn’t here anymore, she’s travelling the world, using her skills to volunteer and help out in numerous hospitals. She hadn’t wanted to go at first, afraid to leave Peter on his own but she was finally convinced when Peter said,  _ ‘You should really go for it, May. This is something you’ve been dreaming about, you’ve been wanting to be a travel nurse for ages and I don’t want you to miss this opportunity. I don’t want to take this away from you. I’ll be fine in university, okay? I’m a big boy,’ he smiles, hugging his aunt tighter. ‘I can look after myself.’ ’ _

 

Ned and MJ are no longer here, either. Each of them went to different universities, far away from New York. Peter had actually got accepted into MIT, but decided to stay and go to Columbia instead, as it seemed like the better option. The campus is closer to where he needs to be, the spare apartment that May left him, and MIT is too far out for him to continue his Spider-Manning duties. 

 

But while everyone has moved on, making a better future for themselves, sometimes… sometimes it just gets so lonely. 

 

It’s like there’s this hollowness inside of Peter’s chest that just never seems to be filled, whatever he does. 

 

And now, he’s grown to trust the Avengers. If he’s going to be with them more often, then…  _ It won’t harm to let them know. _ He thinks, making a decision. He just hopes that it isn’t the wrong one. He just hopes that nothing will go wrong, that this decision isn’t fueled by the undeniable pang of loneliness threatening to consume him and the need for someone to  _ know who he really is, underneath the suit. Just for someone to see the real him.  _

 

With a deep breath, Peter broadens his shoulders, a resolution in his mind. “Well… I guess… I don’t see why not… ” He grips the edge of the red spandex, fingers slightly shaking—and tugs on it until it’s all the way off, slowly revealing a mop of beautiful brown curls.

 

“...My name is Peter, by the way. Peter Parker. Figured I’d also give you my name if you’re finally seeing my face.” He giggles nervously, threading his fingers through his slightly damp hair to hopefully lessen the frizziness the water made. He hopes he doesn’t look too scruffy.

 

Just when he thinks he’s tamed it enough, it only takes a few seconds later for Peter to realise that the whole room is dead silent, staring at him.

 


	3. Unbearably pretty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sjksksk sorry this chapter’s short, the next one will be longer I promise

The moment Peter takes off his mask, everyone stops breathing.   
  


Their brains struggle to function properly for a few seconds, trying to comprehend the sight in front of them.

 

This…

 

They don’t know what they were expecting, honestly. From their many interactions, they knew Spidey was young, but that was that. They didn’t really think twice after getting confirmation that _‘Yes, guys, I am 18. Yes, I am an adult. You don’t need to worry.’_

 

After all, they didn’t want a minor to be stopping crime on the streets and helping out with world ending threats that could result in serious injury, or in even worse cases, death. Although Spider-Man’s been around for 4 years, it does mean that he became a vigilante at the tender age of 14, but they haven’t had that conversation which each other just yet.

 

But, they couldn't possibly have expected that Spider-Man would turn out to be the most gorgeous person they’ve ever seen in their entire lives. 

 

How—how is it even possible for someone to look like this—to look so _perfect?_

 

Peter has milky airbrushed skin, delicate pink lips and the biggest chocolatey doe-eyes that just scream and sparkle with innocence. Since he has just come out of shower, his cheeks are flushed a little; not helping the way small water droplets are dripping from his luscious brown curls onto his skin, making him glisten in the dimly lit room. The rest of his hair cascades down his face adorably as he tilts his head in perplexion, and everyone can’t help but think in unison, ‘ _he looks so damn pretty_.’

 

So damn pretty that it’s unbearable.

 

It _has_ to be illegal to look this good, surely...

 

Peter has a confused puppy expression etched onto his features as he looks at them with an endearing pout. “What?” He asks.

 

He can’t figure out why everyone is staring at him. Has he done something wrong? ...Should he not have taken off his mask? _Oh no, does he look weird? Or have something on his face?_

 

Little did he know that it’s that exact expression Peter had just displayed that’s making everyone go crazy internally.

 

It takes another good long minute of odd silence before it’s finally broken by Tony speaking up with an unsure voice. “How, how old did you say you were again, Spi-Peter? You _are_ 18, right?”

 

“Umm, yeah, I’m 18. Haven’t we gone over this…?” Peter replies, still immensely baffled.

 

With his answer came the numerous sighs of relief, and then an inexplicable emotion is caught glinting in their eyes.

 

“Hmm good. I mean—just—you know, ...making sure.” Tony coughs, retreating back into his thoughts.

 

“Rrright, okay?” Peter laughs nervously. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or not—but it feels as though everyone has gravitated towards him slightly somehow?

 

He could swear that Steve, who was on the far end of the couch earlier, is suddenly sitting opposite him. Clint, who was sprawled out on the floor, now occupies the armrest beside Peter. And Bucky—before, there were a few inches of space between them, but it only just registers to Peter that their shoulders are practically touching. There is something in the air—a weird tension of sorts, and he doesn’t know what to do. Since when did they all move?

 

“Peter, come here for a sec, would you? Help Wanda and I get some food and snacks for the movie later,” Natasha asks, smiling. A few sharp stares are sent her way, as if to say, _‘Why are you taking him away from us?’_

 

“Oh, sure!” Peter answers happily, following Wanda and Nat to the kitchen with an excitable hop in his step.

 

Once he’s gone, along with the two girls—everyone falls into silent contemplation.

 

“Well, isn’t he a sight for sore eyes.”

 


	4. Burning touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised a longer chapter and here it is

“Okay… so. Words of warning, Peter. You’re going to need to be careful from now on.” Natasha advises, gently pushing down on Peter’s shoulder to sit him on a stool in the communal kitchen seating area.

 

“What? Why? What’s going on?” He questions anxiously, furrowing his eyebrows. What is happening? 

 

Natasha and Wanda are standing in front of him—exchanging looks, seemingly having their own nonverbal conversation. They then turn back to Peter, who’s staring up at them with his adorable brown eyes, still as oblivious to the situation as ever.

 

Wanda sighs, shaking her head in utter disbelief. Natasha is sharing the same sentiments.

 

_ He really doesn’t know, does he? _

 

“It’s… not exactly easy to explain, if you haven’t already seen it. Or yourself, for that matter,” Wanda mutters the last sentence underneath her breath.

 

“Seen myself?” Peter says in apprehension, moving his head to look at himself before Wanda interrupts him.

 

“Look, just know that we will be watching out for you, okay? Come to us if you need to, if you have anything to ask. Anything at all.” Wanda smiles gently.

 

“Yeah. We’re here for you, okay baby паук?”

 

Peter’s face glows pink, not quite used to the nickname Natasha decided to give him. He blinks once, and then twice, trying to refocus his thoughts. “O-Oh, um… thank  you, I appreciate that…?”

 

Ok, there’s clearly something he’s missing here.

 

* * *

Once back in the common room, Peter hands out the snacks and drinks before settling back into his spot on the sofa. He lets out a soft sigh as he relaxes further into the velvety cushions, unaware of the eyes lingering on his figure.

 

“So, what movie are we going to watch?” He asks, and that question must’ve snapped everyone out of their daze.

 

“I think it’s Disney tonight,” Bucky replies smoothly, his metal arm slithering across to rest on Peter’s shoulder. Peter leans closer into the inviting touch while not thinking too deeply into it, completely blind to the reactions of the others in the room - the clenched jaws, tight lips and furrowed brows.

Just as Steve was scrolling through the movie selections, asking everyone’s opinions on what they wanted to see, the elevator door opened and someone came walking out.

 

“Hey guys, sorry I didn’t come up earlier. I got a bit too caught up with some work in my lab. Anyway, what are we—uhhhhhhhhh…” Bruce’s sentence trails off as he notices Peter, and his mind short-circuits. “Umm. Oh. Who—who’s this?”

 

“Hi Dr. Banner! It’s me, Spider-Man, but you can call me Peter.” He chirps out with a bright grin.

 

Bruce hesitates on the spot for a second, and then slowly navigates his way towards an empty seat. “Right, Spider-Man… Okay.” He whispers to himself.

 

The lights of the room fade away, engulfing everyone in a blanket of darkness until the only source of illumination is the glow of the wide-screen TV. The soft chattering ceases, and all that can be heard is the quiet munching of food and the audio of the movie playing on the screen.

 

A little under an hour in, Peter’s breath hitches as he feels a cool metallic finger stroking the back of his neck, drawing slow, tantalising circles across his nape.  _ What is Bucky doing?  _ Peter glimpses at the man from the corner of his eye, only to find that his eyes are glued to the TV screen.

 

He doesn’t know what to do. Ask Bucky to stop? Is this supposed to be a comforting gesture? Because if anything, it’s not comforting at all, and instead it’s making him… feel things.    
  


The  _ hot and bothered  _ kind of things.

 

Things he should  _ definitely _ not be feeling in front of other people.

 

Peter fidgets about, unable to sit still. His heart is hammering in his chest and the light gentle touches from Bucky’s fingers have turned from a warm tingle to a scorching heat, travelling all the way down his spine.

 

_ Oh no. Not good. _

 

His nape has always been one of the most sensitive places on his body, and it’s also the area where his Spidey Sense alerts him. Since it’s always in constant use, the fact that someone is  _ touching  _ him there directly—is sending mind-numbing electric shocks to Peter’s brain, making him unable to feel anything else apart from the sensation of those burning touches.

 

Peter’s head lolls to the side, practically laying on Bucky’s chest. As if the man is aware of how Peter is feeling, he presses down slightly harder on the delicate flesh, and it took every ounce of restraint within Peter to stop a moan from escaping his lips. He’s already trying so hard to get his breathing under control. 

 

Bucky’s stray finger trails lower, going underneath his shirt and the moment Peter lets out a small whimper at the action, Clint calls out to FRIDAY.  _ Oh thank god. _

 

“FRIDAY, pause the film for five minutes will ya? Short toilet break, everyone.”

 

A few people get up and go about their business briefly, and Peter has never been more grateful for the momentary diversion as he takes the opportunity to rush to the bathroom, leaving a smirking Bucky behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... I wonder if Peter will bump into anyone on his excursion to the bathroom? Hehe


	5. A little situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally wrote this in like two hours (which is why it’s so short) because I got really motivated from all of the comments in the last chapter ahaha. You guys are so sweet. :))

Just as Peter turns around the corner of the hallway, he slams straight into a lean chest, feeling an arm slide around his waist to keep him from falling onto the ground. The spiderling looks up, coming face to face with the God of Mischief himself.

 

Peter gasps and shyly untangles himself from Loki’s arms, his face becoming even redder than it was before. “L-Loki! Oh, I’m so sorry—”

Loki’s sea green eyes sparkle with intrigue upon recognising Peter’s voice. “You… you’re the little spider, aren’t you?”

Peter keeps his gaze on the floor, trying but failing to get his breathing back to normal. With what happened earlier, it’s as though his senses have gone into hyperdrive, so even so much as a breath on Peter’s skin is leaving him trembling and legs weak.

What the hell is going on? He feels… dizzy, and aching with need. A need for what, though? Peter doesn’t know.

He can’t comprehend it. It’s as if he’s having a sensory overload, but instead of pain he’s feeling—it’s…  _ pleasure? _

He can’t think. He can’t process. He just  _ wants. _

 

And it’s scaring Peter, because he’s never felt like this before. Well, he’s felt pleasure, obviously, but it’s never… it’s never been like  _ this _ . 

Oh, God. Bucky probably didn’t even realise what he was doing, and dammit, Peter is such an  _ awful  _ friend for being  _ turned on  _ by it. He’s so ashamed.

What he needs to do right now is to go to the bathroom, ASAP, to get this… situation under control.

“Umm, yeah. That’s… that’s me. My name is Peter though, Peter P-Parker.” He replies, voice a little high-pitched and breathy.

“Well, I must say,  _ Peter _ ,” Loki purrs, sliding a nimble finger underneath Peter’s chin to tilt it upwards, so that they are staring into each other’s eyes. “You look quite… delightful without your mask.”

Peter almost whines, not even sure why, but he bites his bottom lip before it leaves him. Loki seems to notice this as his eyes darken considerably, turning into pools of molten lava.

“Pray tell,” He whispers deeply, getting unbearably closer. Peter can now feel the wall up against his back, and the slight coolness of Loki’s body. Huh, Loki’s… cold? Did it have something to do with him being a frost giant? Probably… “Where is an adorable mortal such as yourself running off to?”

“U-uhh, umm. Just the—the bathroom…” Peter harshly gulps, throat dry. 

“Mhmm. I couldn’t help but notice that you appear very  _ flushed _ . I wonder, why is that?” Loki says, his face inching in closer and  _ fuck _ , the air is so thick and heavy and Peter feels like he’s burning and he can’t breathe—

“May I?” Loki asks a moment later, and Peter is confused for a second.

“May you wha—?” He lets out an involuntary moan as Loki nips at his ear, letting his wet tongue trail down from Peter’s neck to his collarbone. The younger claws at the God’s clothes, immediately searching for an anchor as Loki’s mouth feels like liquid fire on his skin, it’s so much yet so  _ good _ .

“A-ah,  _ Loki, _ ” Peter shudders as their bodies press up against each other, utterly lost in the bliss. He doesn’t know how long Loki sucks on his neck for, or the kitten licks and butterfly kisses, but Peter regains back some of his senses as he realises that he’s painfully  _ hard _ .

_ Oh fuck. This is so embarrassing. _

“I—I gotta, I have to go…” Before Peter loses any more self control, he slips away from Loki’s grasp, running down the hall on his shaking legs.

He absolutely  _ cannot  _ let anyone see him like this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love Loki. Now, who’s next?


	6. Where did he go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 updates in 24 hours?? Who am I?? 
> 
> Anyways, SMUT incoming. With a splash of angst and Petey’s insecurity, sorry :(

“Who’s still missing?” Sam questions, coming out of the kitchen with a fizzy drink in hand.

 

“Clint’s not back yet.” Natasha says, popping a slice of watermelon into her mouth.

 

“You know, we _could_ just start without him—”

 

“Peter’s not back yet either.”

 

“Never mind. Don’t start the film yet.” Sam replies without hesitation before falling onto the couch and purposely elbowing Scott in the face.

 

“Hey, watch it man,” He huffs, playfully slapping Sam over the head. They laugh for a moment until Scott’s eyes narrow in thought, and he stands up quickly.

 

Sam looks at him in confusion. “Woah careful, where are you going now?”

 

“...Somewhere. I’ll be right back.”

 

* * *

 

Peter closes the door and locks it before walking over to the bathroom sink, immediately turning on the faucet and splashing his face with cold water.

 

_What the fuck, what the fuck. Did that just happen?_

 

Peter gazes at his reflection in the mirror, and notices blossoming purple patches littering his neck. He can still feel the faint lingering sensation of Bucky’s metal fingers and the wetness of Loki’s tongue sliding down his—

 

“Ughhh.” He groans pathetically, sliding down to the tiled floor. There is a very obvious tent at the front of his cotton sweatpants, his erection just aching to be set free.

 

_I can’t believe this. Stop, Peter, calm down. You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom, inside the freaking Avengers Tower, sporting a fucking boner. Don’t embarrass yourself any further. Stupid, stupid!_

 

Peter wants to touch himself so badly, but he won’t. He can’t. Not now, not _here_ . But maybe if he does it quickly…? No no, he’s not risking it. But he’s _desperate_ … He tries to think of something, anything that might make it go away—but it doesn’t seem like it’s leaving anytime soon.

 

With a resigned sigh, he unties the knot on the waistband and pushes his sweatpants down a little, so that they rested just below his hips. Peter gently palms his hard-on through the thin fabric of his boxers before tugging them aside, finally revealing his pretty cock, flushed and leaking and begging for attention.

 

He throws his head backwards, eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his fingers around his shaft, beginning to stroke himself. Time is a luxury that he doesn’t have right now, so Peter needs to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Which - shouldn’t be too difficult, considering how worked up he already is. 

 

Quiet whimpers and pants escape him, echoing off the bathroom walls as his hand moves up and down faster and harder, various different faces flashing underneath his eyelids. Faces of the people he’s trying so desperately to deny their appearance inside his lustful dreams; the way they touch him, all dark eyes that stare down at him as if he were the most beautiful thing, the affectionate gestures and consoling words whispered into his ears as he shudders and trembles in their embrace. 

 

Pink flesh and glistening skin. 

 

Soft moans and wet kisses. 

 

He wants their love; their attention, wants to soak it up and drown in it and Peter can recall the haziness of the pleasure, as if it were a distant memory, a tangible thought instead of a reality out of his grasp. He just wants to mean something to them, to feel _important_ and worthy, and God it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Peter’s got issues.

 

But still, if only it were _real_ , if only, if only they actually _wanted_ him like that, in that way… if only… 

 

But Peter can only keep dreaming, and hide his deepest desire down where no one can see it or reach it. 

 

After all, if they ever knew how he felt about them, they’d probably be disgusted. They probably still think of him as a kid, a kid with some petty crush or out of control hero worship and Peter tries hard not to think of the way his chest constricts at that thought. 

 

He honestly believed it was a simple crush at first, when he first developed it at 14, since doesn’t everyone get a crush on the Avengers every once and awhile? So he disregarded it, didn’t think too deeply about the butterflies in his stomach and his racing heartbeat. _It will go away_ , he repeated in his mind.

 

But… it never did.   
  


  
And he still feels the same. 

 

And even after getting up and close with them for the first time, donned in his makeshift Spider-Man suit; it only strengthened his emotions. It’s also part of the reason why he avoided them… but he missed them too much to stay away. 

 

They are good people with good hearts, that fact is undeniable. 

 

They gave him hope when he needed it the most, gave him comfort and strength. They taught him so much and Peter doesn’t think they’ll ever realise that.

 

But, he supposes, it’s fine that way.

 

They don’t have to know.

 

And they never will. 

 

Peter doesn’t know why Bucky and Loki did that… maybe, maybe they do- _no, don’t think about that, Peter. Don’t get your hopes up, they can’t possibly..._

 

But he can’t help but recall the way they touched him, how _good_ it felt, and a hot spark of electricity flows through Peter, making him thrust his hips up into his hand with a broken whine.   
  


“Peter?” Someone calls out from the other side of the door, knocking on it a few times. “Is that you in there?”

 

Peter freezes up, blood instantly running cold. _Shit shit shit! That’s Scott!_

 

“U-uhh, yeah! Yes, it’s me,” He replies, but his voice sounds too high and unnatural and Peter immediately cringes. 

 

“Just letting you know that we’re going to unpause the movie in a min, so I was going to say to hurry up… but you don’t sound so good. Are you okay, Pete?”

 

_No, I’m not._

 

Peter curses underneath his breath, getting up from the floor and reluctantly sorting himself out. He opens up the backpack he brought here earlier for his shower and takes out an oversized hoodie, and he’s never been more grateful that it covers the top part of his sweatpants. _At least he’ll be able to hide it this way… and hide the hickies that Loki gave him earlier as well._ “Yep! I’m—I’m all good, don’t worry about me. I’ll be out in a sec!”

 

“It’s fine, take your time. We didn’t want to start without you, is all.”

 

“No no, it’s okay! I’m finished now.” Peter rushes to the door and unlocks it, finding Scott standing casually in the hallway.

 

Scott pauses the second he sees Peter, and subtly drinks in his appearance. Messy brown hair, bright red cheeks, lips that must feel as soft as they look…

  
“O-Oh, okay. Well, have you seen Barton around?” Scott asks, clearing his throat and his rather inappropriate thoughts.

 

“No, I haven’t, sorry.”

 

Peter steps out of the bathroom and the two of them make their way back to the common room. Scott sighs internally, slightly relieved. _Mhmm, so they weren’t alone together after all…_

 

Meanwhile, Peter’s mind is a whirlwind. The slight friction between his legs as he walks makes him want to curl up on the floor and cry. He doesn’t know how he’s able to function, so the fact that he’s even _walking_ should be an achievement. 

 

“So, I was wondering—” Scott turns around to make conversation with the boy, but stops once he realises that Peter is nowhere to be found.

 

_What the…? Where did he go?_

 

* * *

 

Before Peter could figure out what was happening, someone had grabbed him by the arm and swiftly lifted him up into the vents.

 

“Wha—!” Peter exclaims loudly just as a large hand covers his mouth.

 

“Looks like I’ve caught a spider,” Clint whispers huskily into Peter’s ear, making his hairs stand up and his body shiver. Everything is foggy and sensitive and he doesn’t even know if this is really happening or _if it’s just another one of his dreams-_

 

Peter grabs Clint’s hand and slowly pulls it away from his face, resisting the urge to just hold onto it and never let go. 

 

“C-Clint? What are you doing...?”

 

The vent space is small with their bodies side by side, so Clint’s chest is flush against Peter’s back. The man hums in fake contemplation and Peter is barely able to contain a gasp since he can practically _feel_ the vibrations rolling off of Clint’s body, which really isn’t helping his current predicament at all.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice, Peter,” He says cryptically, his stray hand slithering up to hold onto Peter’s slim waist.

 

The spiderling sharply inhales as the hand the trails up higher, brushing up against his nipple and Peter feels like he’s about to lose it.  

 

“You were playing with yourself in the bathroom just now, weren’t you?” Clint says as a question, but the tone of his voice told Peter that he already knew the answer. 

 

All Peter does is release a sweet little mewl as a confirmation, which immediately sent all the blood rushing down to Clint’s swelling groin.

 

“I-I’m s-sorry-I just-” the boy chokes on his breath, _oh god, he was caught, how much worse can this get?_

 

“Oh no, honey, why are you apologising?” The archer instantly replies, stroking Peter’s back comfortingly, not missing the shudders that wracked his small frame. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You can touch yourself whenever you want, wherever you want… if it means I’ll get to hear those sweet little moans of yours echoing through the vents again.” 

 

At this, Peter’s face burns bright red, completely mortified. _Clint had heard him… ?_ Oh no no nonono yep, he definitely wants to crawl into a hole and die. Fantasising about them is bad enough- but for the person who is the subject of said-fantasy to hear him as he gets himself off? Guess it’s time to move to another planet, or better yet, another solar system. 

 

Clint’s hands roam Peter’s lean torso, the older man relishing in the slight twitches and gasps his ministrations elicited. “You’re so beautiful, Peter…” a soft whine left the boy, “...so pretty…” 

 

Peter blinks owlishly, though Clint couldn’t see him. “You… you think I’m… that I’m _pretty_?” He asks quietly, hesitant and unbelieving. 

 

Clint’s chest aches at the way Peter sounded as he asked the question, _so unsure and timid_ , because doesn’t he know how gorgeous he is? Doesn’t he know how much they all love him, and how they smile whenever they see him? That he inspires them to continue doing what they do, despite the hardships and efforts?

 

The archer frowns. The boy has always made self deprecating jokes from time to time, putting himself down, and anyone could not think twice about it however Peter was being _genuine_. He truly thought nothing of himself, and he’ll- _they’ll-_ have to change that, and make Peter see just how important he is to them. 

 

But right now, Clint just wants to make the boy feel good, and get rid of those toxic thoughts in his mind, even if for a moment. “Of course I do, baby. You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen…” a little whimper, “...I know you didn’t get to finish, since Scottie boy so rudely interrupted… Tell me, Peter. Do you want me to help you? Do you want me to _touch_ you?”

 

Peter struggles to swallow, _because did Clint just offer to—? Oh my god. This can’t be real. He’d… called him pretty, too. This whole thing must be a dream, this only ever happens in his dreams—But everything feels so real and so good—_ He squirms feverishly, making up his mind.

 

He whimpers weakly, “...P- _please…”_

 

“Mhmm? Please…? Please what, baby?” Clint replies softly, being patient with the boy. He nibbles on his neck, the archer barely stroking Peter’s lower stomach- just slightly above where he so _desperately_ needs the friction. Fingertips trail across his skin, slow and tortuous, and Peter can’t cope any longer. 

 

“Please…” he gasps out once more, legs shaking. “Clint, t-touch me, _please_.”

 

No more time is wasted before a hand is sliding down the front of Peter’s sweatpants, grabbing hold of his throbbing, attention-starved dick. Peter cries out at the sudden action and involuntary bucks his hips up into Clint’s hands, a throaty moan leaving his lips.

 

Peter’s already soaking wet, and Clint easily slides his fist up and down, the little noises Peter makes driving him crazy with lust. He tugs the boy’s hoodie further down, exposing the purple marks scattered all over his neck.

 

“Shit, who got to you first?” He growls in jealousy, replacing Loki’s love bites with his own. Clint suckles on the sensitive flesh, smirking at the pretty little ‘ _ah’s ’_ Peter produces. 

 

Clint lets out a soft chuckle. “Feeling good, hmm?”

 

Unable to lie, or to even so much as utter a word, Peter nods his head, panting heavily. 

 

“Want me to stop?” He teases, giving long, drawn out strokes to Peter’s shaft. Clint presses his thumb down over the slit and the boy shudders and moans, pre-cum gushing out, biting on his bottom lip so hard that he can taste blood on his tongue. 

 

“...N-No, please don’t stop...” The rest of Peter’s sentence comes out as an incoherent mumble, and Clint could swear he saw Peter’s eyes tear up as if afraid he would actually stop. He’s never been touched in this way by someone else before, and Peter didn’t know that it could feel so _good_. It’s way better than anything he’s ever done by himself. 

 

“Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll take care of you,” Clint kisses the back Peter’s hair, his lips re-attaching themselves on the sweet spot of his neck that makes him writhe in bliss. Clint’s arm muscles flexed as he worked Peter’s cock, stroking him at a faster pace as his other hand rubs and pinches at the cute pink nipples on Peter’s chest.

 

Peter can feel his lower belly tightening as the end draws nearer, the gradual build up of pleasure almost tipping him over the edge. He wants it to last, for it to take longer, _because he doesn’t want it to be over_ , but it’s too late, and Peter’s unable to stop the oncoming orgasm. 

 

“C-Clint, ahh, I’m gonna—gonna—!”

 

And before he knows it—his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he cums, silently screaming with his mouth in the shape of an ‘o’. Tremors rake his entire body, long white strands spilling all over Clint’s fist in easily the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced.

 

Peter doesn’t know how long his mind was completely blank, devoid of all thought and rationality, but as he falls back down from his euphoric high, he whimpers from overstimulation as he realises that Clint is still slowly stroking him and milking him empty. 

 

He doesn’t stop- no, he continues gently rubbing the head of Peter’s cock against his open palm in circles, leaving him whining and on the edge of tears, and Peter almost tells him to stop because it hurts, but it also feels _too good_. 

 

Peter knows that he could probably cum a few times in a row, but he’s never really tested it out. What he does know for certain is that once never feels enough, and in this case, it really isn’t. He just wants _more._ If this… if this really isn’t just a fever dream, then right now, he wants to take everything he can get, everything that Clint is willing to give him. _Because Peter knows the man will regret what he’s done later._

 

His cock twitches in Clint’s loose grip, the archer still sliding his hand in a rhythmic motion, and it’s not even a minute later before Peter is seeing the stars again, gasping and trembling and _fuck- it feels so much stronger and better than the first-_  

 

Peter cries out, and Clint pets his hair, shushing him and whispering sweet nothings that Peter’s mind is too far gone to be able to comprehend. 

 

When the hand finally stops, Peter goes completely lax, collapsing into Clint’s chest while breathing heavily.

 

And in that moment, between the haze and any sense of awareness, he can’t help but think,

 

_Holy fucking shit._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this wasn’t according to plan... but oh well. If things seem like they’re going too quickly, they probably are, I just have no self control


	7. He’ll never know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy <3

“Pete...? Are you okay?”

 

Peter burrows himself further into the cushions, feeling a tornado of emotions raging inside of him.

 

He doesn’t want to look at anyone in the eyes right now.

 

The sounds from the TV have done absolutely nothing to drown out the thoughts that plague him, and he’s never been more confused.

 

Why… why did Clint do that? Peter doesn’t regret what happened, of course not, it felt _good_ , but it’s just—Peter never expected that anyone would want to do those sorts of things with him. He’s kind of in shock.

 

But it really happened. With _Clint_ , an Avenger, a highly trained spy, an archer, a _hero_ , no less. He just doesn’t understand. Peter feels, he feels… he can’t fully explain it. Like he’s not good enough? Like he doesn’t deserve to be touched so intimately from someone like Clint?

 

After all, he’s just some lowly vigilante that helps the Avengers out from time to time, and even then, they do all the heavy lifting. Spider-Man has hardly done anything praiseworthy. Not to mention his real identity, Peter Parker; a gangly, nerdy college kid with no appeal whatsoever.

 

God, he’s pathetic.

 

Peter startles as he feels rough fingers threading through his curly brown hair, a little hesitantly, but when the boy nuzzles into the touch, the hand continues to soothingly pet him with more confidence than before.

 

The teen peeks open his eyes, raising his head a little out of the pillow, and sees Tony staring back at him adoringly.

 

“Hey there.” The older man says, his voice so delicate and affectionate that it makes Peter’s heart burst with warmth. “How are you feeling?”

 

He’s only just realised it now, but he’s practically laying on Tony’s lap. Oops.

 

But Peter makes no effort to move, too comfortable with the position and he releases a soft, contented sigh, closing his eyes once more.

 

“M’ comfy.” He replies.

 

Peter hears Tony’s short huff of laughter, but he quickly covers it up with a quiet cough, not wanting to disturb the others who are still watching the movie.

 

“Mhmm, I can see that.”

 

A few people had already left, either to sleep or back to whatever they needed to do, and the only ones left in the room were Sam, Scott and Wanda, who made use of the unoccupied sofa spaces to promptly sprawl themselves out like cats, leaving Tony and Peter together on the loveseat.

 

“You can sleep a little, if you want. Since this movie’s just started, it won’t be over for a while yet.” Tony says gently.

 

Peter curls into himself, letting his mind drift. Tony’s suggestion sounds too good right now.

 

He remembers rushing into the communal living space earlier, as if someone was hot on his heels, apologising to everyone for taking so long. He remembers staring at the screen, not really paying attention, and then he felt his face burning at the sight of Clint casually strolling into the room, a smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes met Peter’s.

 

If anyone figured out what happened between him and Clint, he’d definitely die right then and there from pure embarrassment.

 

Peter tries to calm his heart, since it’s hammering away in his chest, beating so loudly that he can hear it in his ears. He lets the calming action of Tony stroking his hair and the background noise lull him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The spiderling eases into consciousness, realising that it’s dark and quiet. Tony is standing in front of him, gently patting his shoulder.

 

“Hey, Bambi, why don’t we get you into your room now, yeah?” He says in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the boy too much. Tony can’t help it—as much as he hates to wake Peter up when he looks so soft and sleepy, he needs to be somewhere more comfortable and suitable for rest.

 

“Mmm…I h’ve a room?” Peter asks blearily, and it’s so so fucking _cute_ and adorable that Tony has to physically restrain himself from kissing Peter on the spot.

 

“Of course you do, honey.”

 

Peter shuffles his body, appearing as though he’s about to get up but it turns out that he’s only trying to find a better position as he grabs another cushion, holding it tightly around his midsection.

 

“Noo… don’t wanna…” Peter whines, curling himself into a ball. He thinks he hears a few quiet chuckles from around him and someone cooing, but then again, everything is fuzzy and not fully processing.

 

“C’mon, Pete. Up you get, you sleepy spider.” Tony slides his arms around him, meaning to help him up however Peter latches onto Tony, wrapping his legs around his waist and clinging on like a koala.

 

The billionaire stops breathing for a second before looking down at the boy who’d managed to snuggle deeply into the crook of his neck, already fast asleep.

 

God, Peter is going to be the death of him.

 

“That’s not fair.” Sam mutters quietly, Scott nodding in agreement.

 

Tony ignores them, swiftly making his way into a spacious bedroom and gently lays Peter down onto a spongy mattress. The man pulls the duvet cover over him, and watches as the boy huddles underneath the blankets.

 

Tony needs to leave, since anymore standing around like this, watching someone sleep would definitely label him a creep.

 

But for some reason he just can’t bring himself to.

 

He crouches down beside Peter’s bedside, so that their faces are level with each other, before whispering an inaudible “Oh hell.” and pressing a faint kiss to the corner of Peter’s lips.

 

It’s fine. It’s not like he’ll ever know.

 

Tony finally slips out into the hallway and carefully shuts the door behind him with a quiet _click_.

  
  
  
  
  



	8. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I haven’t posted in months how has everyone been?? I’ve missed you all so much! <3
> 
> Since it’s the New Year and I’m feeling really good I’m going to post 3 chapters, it was originally only 1 chapter but I thought it was quite long so I decided to split it up lol. 
> 
> Can I just remind you guys that you’re amazing and so sweet and I love every single one of you? Xx

_ Everything is pitch black.  _

 

_ Peter can hear his heartbeat, a loud thumping in his ears as he looks around in a state of panic, seeing nothing but an endless void of shadows and darkness stretching all around him, the sky above stained in deep red.  _

 

_ Desolate and barren, the empty place is eerily quiet, save for the soft pattering of Peter’s footsteps as he navigates further into the vast wasteland, searching for an exit. But just like the last time he found himself here, he couldn’t find any.  _

 

_ This whole place feels... wrong, somehow. Foreboding. As if it’s another realm of existence, distorted in space and time… yet though there isn’t a single soul in sight as Peter continues walking onwards, a sudden chill takes hold of his body.  _

 

_ His senses started screaming.  _

 

_ Someone… something is watching him. _

 

_ Peter comes to a dreaded stop, breath short and uneven. The cold air seeps deep into his bones, and the teen wraps his arms around himself in a futile attempt of keeping himself warm.  _

 

_ Abruptly, Peter stumbles backwards as he can vaguely distinguish thick tendrils of white smoke slithering into the space in front of him, a phantom body forming from nothingness- disfigured facial features morphing before his eyes.  _

 

_ A loud shrill echoes all around him and suddenly Peter is lifted up into the air by an unknown force and thrown to the ground like a rag doll, a heavy pressure squeezing his throat, crushing his chest- stopping him from breathing.  _

 

_ “I always get what I want, Spider.” A voice hisses, hypnotic and serpent-like.  _

 

_ Where had Peter heard that exact same voice from?  _

 

_ The boy thrashes around on the floor, choking and gasping, tears streaming down his face. He tries to say something, but no words escape him. The figure hunched over his body smiles, as if pleased, in a way so terrifying and unnerving that it left Peter frozen in fear. It strokes the teen’s cheek softly and hums.  _

 

_ “...And you are what I want.”  _

 

* * *

 

Peter wakes up in a startled gasp, bolting upright in his bed. He clutches his head as if it’s being ripped apart and tries to focus on his breathing, trying to stop himself from spiralling.

 

Fuck. The same goddamn nightmare again. Although this time round, something made an appearance and promptly strangled the life out of him. That  _ thing… _ Peter shivers. He can’t get the image of it out of his head. There’s an ashy aftertaste lingering in his mouth, and it’s as though he’s falling, an uncomfortable lurching sensation twisting in his guts. Peter feels too unsettled… feels like he’d been cursed. 

 

And that voice- it was familiar. But where…? 

 

It took a while, but once Peter managed to calm down enough to the point where he’s able to lift his head without the fear of throwing up from dizziness, his eyes darted around the room cautiously, as if wary of another presence. But… he’s all alone. 

 

It’s quiet and dark. 

 

Peter lets out a long exhale and slumps his back against the headboard of the bed, exhausted and drained. Like all of his energy has been sucked dry. He grimaced, thinking ‘ _ guess nightmares tend to do that to you.’ _

 

Even though Peter would usually appreciate silence at a time like this, right now it was too  _ deafening _ , and left him all too aware of thoughts inside of his mind. He needed something else to focus on, something to distract him. 

 

The boy covers his face with his hands, groaning frustratedly to himself. He won’t be able to fall back asleep at this rate. Peter just sits there, lightheaded and chest achingly tight, wanting to close his eyes but finding himself unable to. 

 

After five minutes, he carefully gets off the bed, deciding to go on a little walk. The digital clock by the mirror reads ‘3:47AM’, and Peter slips off his hoodie, throwing it on the floor before tiptoeing out into the empty hallway.

 

* * *

 

He wanders around aimlessly for a bit before he enters the common room, drawn to the large floor to ceiling windows, showcasing New York in all its glory. 

 

Peter slides down to the ground, resting his head against the cool glass pane as he gazes at the midnight skyline, a soft sigh leaving him. Though it may still be night, the city has never seemed more alive, the skyscraper lights gleaming and flickering in the darkness, bathing the world in a technicoloured ethereal glow. He’d never get tired of this view. 

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice behind him says, and Peter almost leaps into the air, whisking his head around. 

 

Sitting on a barstool, Steve stares at Peter from across the room. Bucky is also there, on the other side of the kitchen counter, his hair falling over his eyes slightly. Peter gets the random urge to tuck the strands of hair behind the man’s ears. 

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Peter.” Steve says apologetically. 

 

“O-oh! No, it’s okay.” He reassures. ...Had they been there all this time?  “I didn’t realise you guys were there. I-I was just um—err,” Peter stutters, unable to find the words. He doesn’t bother finishing his sentence, instead looking down at his hands as they’re clasped together in his lap. 

 

“...Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky asks. 

 

The boy glances back at them, slowly nodding his head before whispering his reply. “...Yeah.” 

 

The two men move from the counter to the couch, leaving an empty space between them. Bucky rests his hand there, beckoning Peter over. 

 

“Come here, Peter.”

 

As if on autopilot, Peter gets up off the floor and plops himself down, suddenly aware that he’s sandwiched between the super soldiers. He fidgets nervously, playing with the hem of his shirt. 

 

There’s a small pause, until Bucky breaks the silence. “Want to talk about it?” 

 

“Umm… I don’t know, it’s stupid,” he mumbles, pulling his knees up to his chest. Peter picks at the skin around his nails- a nervous tick, something he didn’t realise he did until MJ pointed it out. 

 

“It’s not stupid, Peter.” The blond says, inching closer. “We’re here for you, if you ever want to speak your mind. It might help. We care about you.” He ends, his voice sounding unbearably warm. Fond. 

 

The teen leans his head back on the sofa. They… care? About him?  _ Of course _ they do. Because that’s just the type of people they are. Always caring, always helping, always so  _ good _ , not just to everyone, but to  _ him _ , when he doesn’t even deserve the smallest fraction of the affection they show him. 

 

Peter’s dragged out of his thoughts when he feels Bucky’s hand on his shoulder. He has this look in his eyes, an emotion in there that Peter can’t quite place- and the boy is left momentarily dumbfounded, strings tugging at his heart. 

 

Hesitantly, his mouth opens, words caught on the tip of his tongue, until it all it takes is that last push of resolution before his fears and worries are spilling from his lips that he couldn’t stop even if he tried to. 

 

He’s aware that’s he’s rambling at first, because isn’t that what he does best? Peter talks about college work, about spidermanning, his daily life, the struggles, and then the frequent visit of the  _ nightmares _ , constantly repeating in the back of his mind like a broken record player. 

 

He talks about normal things, mundane things, and about how other people have it worse off and yet he feels like there’s a dark cloud looming over him all the time. How he always feels empty, even though being Spider-Man is fulfilling,  _ should _ be fulfilling. But that’s the thing- it’s  _ not _ , nothing is ever enough, and Peter feels  _ selfish _ for wanting to search for something to fill the hollowness plaguing his heart. 

 

Seconds, minutes go by, the only sound in the room being Peter’s voice, and then silence reigns once more, after the teen lets out a shaky breath into the darkness. 

 

“I just…” Peter pauses, eyes flickering to the two men beside him. “...I just feel so  _ alone _ . And… I don’t  _ want _ to go back to sleep alone. I hate it.” He whispers, voice breaking, the last sentence barely inaudible. But they heard it clearly. 

 

“Oh, sweetheart…”

 

Steve opens up his arms, and Peter couldn’t resist it- he crawls into the older man’s lap, nuzzling into his broad chest as the blond holds him tightly—Steve’s natural musky and masculine scent instantly soothing his senses. Just this, being wrapped inside strong arms almost has Peter sobbing in relief at how warm and  _ safe _ he feels. Bucky is behind him, comfortingly rubbing his back and stroking his hair- and Peter’s unabashedly melting into putty underneath their hands. 

 

He’s been so fucking terrified recently, not even understanding why- but with Steve and Bucky holding him so protectively, Peter can’t help the stray tears that fall down his face. Right now, he’s not by himself. For once- even if this is the only time, there’s someone there for him. 

 

Steve and Bucky share a glance over Peter’s head. Their poor boy, they didn’t even know about half the things that Peter had told them just now. They honestly never realised he’d been through so much, while so young, still. Nightmares and PTSD are horrible, they know it all too well, and to be suffering through it alone is something no one should have to do. 

 

Whenever Peter is with them, he always brightens up the room. Improves everyone’s mood by miles. He’s like a giant ball of sunlight; warm, bubbly and so inexplicably vibrant that his seemingly unending positivity practically oozes out of him and latches itself onto everyone else around him. Because that’s just how Peter  _ is _ .

 

Steve vividly remembers a time when the Avengers were fighting a giant space octopus- Tony complaining about it being  _ ‘rip off tentacle porn’ _ or something rather- and the creature kept creating problems for them. It was intelligent and frustratingly slippery, nothing could get past its indestructible skin- explosions, repulsor blasts, arrows, none of it worked. 

 

The battle was long and tedious, so could you blame the Avengers for growing exhausted and stressed? Their mood was affected, and their behaviour- suddenly everyone was irritated, short tempered and snarky, and a fight would’ve broken out within the team if it weren’t for Spider-Man being the mediator. He was able to casually ease witty jokes and one-liners into the conversation, earning a few giggles and snorts, any lingering tension between the teammates already forgotten as they continued fighting the octopus. 

 

Unexpectedly, Steve got wrapped up into one of the tentacles, and was thrown into the air so rapidly that he almost got whiplash. But luckily Spidey caught him as he was falling, gently laying him down on a rooftop away from the fight so he could catch his breath. 

 

_ ‘Are you okay, Captain?’ _ he asked nervously, looking up at him. 

 

Steve was still dazed, blood rushing to his head, and he would’ve collapsed to his feet if it weren’t for Spider-Man holding him up by the waist. They could hear someone whistle  _ ‘nice catch’ _ through the comms, and Steve remained still, silent, trying to gain back his bearings. 

 

The Captain glanced at Spider-Man quickly, the younger man’s lean body casting a silhouette against the backdrop of the orange sunset behind him. It was a very… weird moment. And yet- even though Steve felt a little faint and fuzzy headed, it was also his moment of perfect clarity. 

 

A realisation. 

 

_ ‘Y-Yeah. I’m good now. Thank you, Spider-Man.’ _ Steve’s face was red, and he was clearly flustered. But Spider-Man thought that it was just the aftermath of what happened to him, as he quickly went to explain through the comms about an ingenious plan he thought up, one that requires everyone working together to get the octopus where they wanted it. Once it fell into their trap, Spider-Man emerged from behind the building, capturing the creature in his steel webbing, while others were left to create a barrier with Tony’s tech around it to keep it contained. It was an alternate means of doing things- for if they couldn’t kill it, they had to incapacitate.

 

The plan worked. Everyone was relieved. 

 

Steve was immensely grateful for everything Spider-Man had done- from saving him to practically finishing off the battle himself, but the blond never got to thank him because the vigilante had already slipped away. Steve’s cheeks were still pink, from exertion or something else, no one really knew, but the Captain knew that his heart was beating a little faster. 

 

As for Bucky; he had ventured off underneath the cover of night, walking around the city like a ghost. He’d done it to cool his mind, his head- but it wasn’t so easy, because the man had found himself hyperventilating on the floor of a random dark alleyway, feeling like he was submerged underwater. He couldn’t  _ breathe- _ his lungs painfully denied its precious oxygen, arms wrapped around himself so tight that there were bruises on his legs.

 

Bucky flinched violently at the sudden sound of approaching footsteps, until he realised that they were  _ familiar _ , and the brunet glanced up for a second, coming face to face with the masked web-slinger. Though his face was covered, hiding his expression- his whole body language radiated concern and worry. 

 

The ex-assassin was mildly surprised when Spider-Man started telling him to describe his surroundings. The smells nearby, what the floor feels like. Everything he can see. It was a grounding technique- one that managed to help, as Bucky’s breathing became steadier and his hands were no longer shaking as bad as they were. 

 

That night, Spider-Man sat by his side, talking about his day, how he went to class late and accidentally got a Frappuccino thrown in his face by a classmate who tripped on her feet. Bucky smiled, he knew it was to distract him. And it worked. 

 

_ ‘And bam, suddenly I had a full face of whipped cream! My clothes were completely drenched, and the smell of coffee and milk just wouldn’t go away,’  _ Spidey complained, gesturing with his hands. 

 

Bucky snorted, he could just imagine the pout underneath the mask. _ ‘And? How did ya’ sort that out?’ _

 

Spidey whacked his shoulder playfully, and Bucky absolutely  _ loved it,  _ loved not being treated with caution, with fragility. This is how things  _ should  _ be, this is the normalcy he craved. 

 

_ ‘Hey! Don’t laugh, this is a serious matter!’  _ The vigilante whined, and that only made Bucky laugh harder. ‘ _ So yeah, after that happened, I helped the girl up first-’ _

 

_ ‘Of course you did,’  _ the older man interrupted.

 

_ ‘-and she kept apologising, but I said it was fine, and she quickly turned around and ran away. I was confused for a second, but shrugged it off, y’know? She was probably embarrassed, I don’t blame her. So then I went to the bathroom to try to sort my clothes out, but it was no use! I was a walking Frappuccino! But then, the girl from before knocked on the door, and it turns out she went back to her dorm to get a sweater for me.  _

 

_ That was actually really thoughtful, and she didn’t have to go all that way, so what was I going to do, reject the sweater? Even though it was pastel pink and very obviously what’s considered a feminine piece of clothing? No, of course not! I put it on, thanked the girl, and got out of there. Not gonna lie, the sweater was really cozy and warm. I almost didn’t want to give it back… but eventually I had to. It turns out the girl’s name is Gwen. She’s really nice and she’s in my class. It was super awkward for the rest of that day, though, everyone kept staring at me weirdly.’  _

 

Spider-Man explained, and Bucky nodded, actually quite invested in the story. He momentarily forgot about the panic attack, and it was nice… the teen kept away the ghosts of his past, even if for a little while. And Bucky will always remember how Spidey helped him, how his whole body felt lighter after their meeting, despite filling up and overflowing with a newfound affection for the vigilante. 

 

Spider-Man- no, they found out his name is  _ Peter- _ just has that natural charm to him. Caring, compassionate, empathetic. That element of innocence without naïveté, the courage without foolishness, the confidence without arrogance. Not to mention that he’s a badass when he fights, though he doesn’t seem to think so. He is the perfect balance, and it’s hard to believe that someone like Peter could even exist because he seems so perfect in every way. 

 

But of course not every person is without flaws. 

 

Because here, seeing Peter so utterly torn in front of their very own eyes, has made them realise how much of a facade the boy has put on for everyone. How much he’s been hiding how he truly feels. And a sudden overwhelming emotion wells up inside of Steve and Bucky, the urge to  _ protect _ , to look after and care for the one who’s done so much for them, the one who means the world to them. 

 

“Do you... do you want to sleep beside us tonight? Would that help?” Bucky says softly, still threading his fingers through the boy’s hair. 

 

Peter pulls back, obviously surprised by the question. He bites his bottom lip, cheeks growing red. That would… be really nice. Just the thought of someone else being there with him, watching over him has him feeling a little better. “Um... I... if, if that’s okay with you? I’d like t-that, but don’t feel obligated to-”

 

“It’s alright, Peter. We want to.” Steve reassures.

 

“You... you do?”

 

“Mhmm.” He confirms. 

 

“Oh… okay.” Peter appears dazed, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “T-Thank you.” He says shyly. 

 

Suddenly, the boy finds himself being lifted up and carried bridal style, and he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck automatically. The man’s body temperature is off the charts, so can you blame Peter for snuggling a little closer? After all, not being able to thermoregulate sucks. 

 

Before long, they arrive in what Peter assumes is Steve’s bedroom, and the man settles him down in the middle of the bed gently. The spiderling’s heart flutters when they climb in the bed after him, Bucky covering them with a huge fluffy blanket. 

 

“Is this okay?” The brunet man asks, smiling so tenderly that it makes Peter’s insides feel fuzzy. 

 

This is nice. Really, really nice. 

 

Peter nods, sighing contentedly as his body relaxes into the mattress, all tension already lifting away. Bucky places a pillow on his upper arm so Peter can rest his head there; curled up close into the crook of his neck. Steve’s hand is held up against the teen’s back, comforting, grounding, and unconsciousness takes Peter by surprise as it brings him into the most peaceful sleep he hasn’t had in forever. 

 


	9. A little morning fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut smut SMUT,,,,

When Peter slowly drifts into consciousness, it takes a long minute for him to realise where he is. His face is snuggled into a broad chest; Peter’s eyes flickering up to catch a glimpse of messy blond hair and there are another pair of arms wrapped around his waist- a very familiar metal arm resting on his hip. 

 

Right. 

 

Peter’s face burns bright like a flame, a hot flush surging through his body and he wants to disappear upon noticing that his lower anatomy seems to be responding to the close proximity of the gorgeous men beside him in a… not so convenient way. 

 

Yeah, this isn’t good. 

 

He wants to untangle himself from the sleeping soldiers, but then he’d risk waking them up, and if they looked _down_ , well, Peter would be done for. 

 

The teen finds himself in a dilemma, deciding whether or not to stay like this a little longer or just get up and make a break for it. 

 

But unfortunately, it seems like a decision is made for him as he hears a soft groan from Steve- _that totally didn’t make his dick twitch at all_ \- and Bucky shuffles a little, holding Peter tighter. 

 

He shouldn’t have done that. Because the moment he did, Peter accidentally lets out an embarrassing whimper, excruciatingly aware of just how much body heat these two are emitting, which is way higher than the average human- is it due to the serum?- and how close their… lower halves are to each other. 

 

Steve and Bucky’s eyes immediately snap open at the sound, looking down at the boy nestled in between them, his face adorably red and eyes squeezed shut. 

 

Bucky is about to ask Peter if he’s okay, when he notices Steve’s eyes widen suddenly, a smirk forming on his lips. Confused, Bucky raises an eyebrow at his friend, _‘What is it?’_ he asks him inwardly. 

 

But Steve only smiles back mysteriously, purposely moving his knee forwards a little, until, until… they hear a soft moan leave Peter. The boy quickly slaps a hand over his mouth, looking absolutely mortified, and the older men can’t help the sudden flare of arousal that wash over them. 

 

 _Oh_. 

 

Oh, what a shy darling. 

 

Bucky looks over Peter’s shoulder, seeing the boy hard in his sweatpants, Steve’s thigh innocently placed beside the erection. _The tease._  

 

“...Peter?” Steve says, after a long pause. 

 

Peter doesn’t reply, and still has his eyes shut, scared to open them. He _knows_ they’ve seen it- oh god he wants to die, why does his body have to betray him like this?

 

“Peter, look at me?” The blond pleads, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. 

 

Reluctantly, he does as he’s told, eyes glassy with moisture as he glances up at the super soldiers. 

 

“I-I’m so sorry,” Peter whispers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear- I, I’ll just go-” Peter is ready to get up, to leave before they tell him to. But he’s stunned when they lead him back down onto the bed, pulling his body closer into theirs. He lets out a startled squeak at the action. 

 

“Hey hey, it’s okay, baby,” Steve coos, his hand rubbing Peter’s arm. “It happens, it’s completely normal. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Despite that comment that Peter is positive was intended to be reassuring, it only makes him blush further, more embarrassed that they _know_ he’s hard. 

 

“I know, but…” _but it won’t go away, if he stays here like this. They’re affecting him too much._ “...s’awkward. This-this wouldn’t have happened if-” 

 

He stops talking abruptly. Shit, why’d he have to go and run his mouth? Peter should’ve learnt his lesson by now. 

 

Bucky tilts his head in confusion, “...wouldn’t have happened if what, doll?” 

 

Oh no no no. There’s _no_ way Peter’s completing that sentence. Ever. He shakes his head at the question, trying to suffocate himself in the Captain’s chest. Or disappear. Either one would be good, if it gets him away from this situation. 

 

“Don’t be shy. You can tell us anything. Right, Buck?” Steve’s hand trails from Peter’s shoulder to the side of his neck, until his fingers are tangled in his hair. Bucky hums, the metal hand that was originally on Peter’s hip now gripping his slender waist, making him shiver. 

 

Fuck, they’re only just touching him a little, nothing even sexual, and yet Peter’s trying so hard not to lose his self control. His breath is quicker, body more tense, and the super soldiers are all too aware of this, watching his reactions intently. 

 

The teen replies something, but they don’t understand what he says since it’s muffled. 

 

“Hm? What was that?” Bucky says, encouragingly. “We couldn’t make out what you said, doll.” 

 

Steve pulls his body away slightly so that they could actually see Peter’s face, no longer hidden in the blond’s chest. 

 

And the sight of him makes them melt. 

 

He looks so _sweet_ , so precious, his adorable pink blush reaching the tips of his ears as his eyes flutter around the room embarrassingly. “...wouldn’t have happened… if… if you both weren’t here…” he mumbles reluctantly, chewing his bottom lip, making it wet and plump. 

 

The two men are frozen, stopping their movements. For a moment, Peter almost tears up, since now they know he’s like that because of _them,_ and that it’s not some random morning wood. Will they ever look at him, talk to him again after this? Knowing that he thinks of them in that way? 

 

No one says or does anything. 

 

Bucky snaps to his senses before Steve does, gulping harshly. “Peter… are you saying… you got hard because of us?” he asks incredulously. 

 

The boy is silent for a bit, inwardly panicking, before deciding to nod his head, although hesitantly. The air in the room is stagnant, hazy, and it’s hard to breathe. Peter doesn’t really know what’s happening, if he said anything or made a certain sound- but he finds himself being soothed and hushed, before Steve sharply inhales and tilts the boy’s chin up, so he can look at them properly. 

 

“Do you trust us, Peter?” 

 

“Yes,” he answers, immediately. 

 

Bucky and Steve look at each other. Christ, their baby is _hard_ because of them- how could they just let that go? 

 

“...Do you want us to make you feel good?” 

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Peter repeats, eagerly. God, he can’t think right now. Can’t think of anything he wants more. 

 

Peter gasps and brings a finger to his mouth, biting down when he feels Bucky’s hand lightly squeezing the swell of his ass. Fuck, that feels _amazing_. “...Then leave it to us, okay doll? I promise we’ll take care of you.” the man murmurs, low and seductive. 

 

Not even a second later, Peter releases a high-pitched whine as Steve’s large hands slip under his shirt, stroking his chest while he peppers his collar bones with soft kisses, Bucky’s mouth sucking at his nape at the same time- _it’s so so good_ \- and Peter’s convinced that he’s never felt hornier in his entire life. 

 

“Oh god- _fuck_ ,” Peter mewls, scared of the possibility that he might be able to cum just from this alone. He clutches his fingers around Steve’s bicep, trying to anchor himself and stop from getting lost in the pleasure. 

 

Bucky and Steve can’t help it- Peter’s absolutely perfect, so sensitive and responsive to the minor stimulus. They’re both hard themselves, ever since they heard that first adorable moan Peter made, they had no power to stop the lust from overtaking them. All they can think about is making the teen feel as good as he possibly can, because it’s what he deserves; that and so much more. They’re going to give him everything they can offer. 

 

Steve chuckles, giving Peter’s nipple a little pinch, watching as it turned a beautiful shade of pink. “You like that, sweetheart?”

 

Bucky’s rubbing circles along Peter’s hips and thighs, breathing close to Peter’s ears since he knows exactly how it affects him, if the slight shivers and trembles along his spine are any proof to go by. 

 

Peter lets out a shaky breath, nodding frantically and moaning when Bucky finds the ultra sensitive spot on his neck that makes him keen, the delicious noises of the boy making the men unbearably harder. 

 

They’re too gentle and slow with him, touching him in a way that’s leaving him starving for more, and it’s driving him _crazy_. 

 

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Peter hikes his leg up a little so he can rut against Steve’s stomach, but Bucky continues to hold him in place by gripping his hips, stopping him from moving. Peter makes a distressed noise, because they’re touching him all over and everywhere except _there_ , where he wants to be touched the most. 

 

When Clint helped him it was quick and dirty, but these two seem set on taking this torturously slow, working Peter up. Peter’s always been weak to pleasure- once something feels good it takes away his strength and leaves him weak-kneed and wanting more. The spider bite didn’t help- while it definitely enhanced his senses, it also made Peter... more _sensitive_ to such things. It’s too easy for him to get stimulated, embarrassingly so.

 

Peter slowly reaches his hand down the front, he just needs to ease some of the aching… but Bucky grabs onto his hand before he could touch his cock. 

 

“Sorry doll, not just yet.” 

 

The boy squirms, panting feverishly. “Please, I- I can’t…”

 

“Yes, you can do it, baby. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” 

 

Peter chokes on a sob, and Steve cups his cheek gingerly, kissing him on the forehead before he sits upright on the bed. He moves Peter’s body slightly, so now the boy’s back is on the blond’s lap, and they’re both facing Bucky. 

 

Bucky moves forwards, towering over Peter with his much larger stature, warm hands trailing up the teen’s legs, until they’re gripping the waistband of his pants. He glances up at Peter. “Can I…?” The super soldier asks, not even finishing his question as Peter interrupts with a breathless _‘yes’_ , the singular word dripping in impatience. 

 

Once the pants are discarded, Bucky places his hands on the teen’s knees, just a steady grasp, not even moving them apart- silently reminding Peter that he can opt out at any time. The brunet kisses his legs, encouragingly, supportive, until Peter is brave enough to slowly spread open his thighs willingly, making his cock visible, painfully hard and leaking against the cold air. Peter’s face is red; shy and timid, yet anticipation is reflected in his eyes. Everything feels hot- a single caress or breath against his skin burns him like electrical sparks, the sensations slowly eating him up and consuming him.

 

Peter can’t believe anything that’s happening. No one has ever seen him like this before, since he’s never done anything _this_ sexual with anyone- but for these two to be the first? Peter’s silently praying to the stars for this moment of luck. Sure, Clint has touched him, and it was amazing- but he didn’t get to _see_ him. Being spread out, bare and legs apart, has Peter feeling a sort of vulnerability that he’s never felt before, but it’s not bad. In fact, it’s the opposite, and it’s a feeling he could get addicted to. Knowing that Bucky and Steve are seeing him, _all of him_ , and are in control, has his heart beating rapidly, a euphoric rush seizing his senses.

 

Bucky lets out a trembling breath. _God-_ Peter is just- there are no words to properly explain how gorgeous he looks, laid out like this. He’s smooth and perfectly hairless- his soft milky skin on display that he just wants to mark with kisses and love bites- Bucky can feel his self control dwindling by the second. 

 

All he does is wrap his hand around Peter’s length, gently, barely even a proper grip- and the teen’s first orgasm catches him completely unaware- it was so sudden that he didn’t even feel it building up before he came. He cries out, long streaks of cum splattering all over his stomach. His cock is still so agonisingly hard in Bucky’s loose hold, deep red and oversensitive. Peter has a blissed out expression, moaning brokenly as grabs tightly onto Steve’s arm, guilt overwhelming him. He wasn’t supposed to cum yet, but he couldn’t help it… 

 

Steve and Bucky are stunned, staring at the boy in awe. If just a single stroke had him coming like that, what else could they do...? 

 

“I-I’m sorry- I couldn’t stop it-” Peter babbles, embarrassed that he wasn’t able to control himself. 

 

“Shhh, s’alright, _lyubov moya (my love),”_ the smooth Russian slipped out Bucky’s mouth, and holy _fuck_ , why did Peter find that so hot? The older man still has his hand around his dick, and Peter nudges his foot against Bucky’s erection, making him stumble forwards slightly, his metal arm caging the boy. 

 

“But… but what about you…?” Peter says softly, blinking his eyes. Steve and Bucky are making him feel good, but what about them? The teen noticed long ago that they were hard too, yet they only tended to him, never once doing anything to help themselves. They must be aching. 

 

“Don’t worry ‘bout us, baby. Just let yourself focus on feeling good, mhm?” Steve replies, sucking at Peter’s neck. 

 

Peter pouts, he isn’t having that. “P-Please…? I wanna make you both feel good, too…” 

 

The teen heard a soft _‘fuck’_ muttered underneath someone’s breath before he’s effortlessly being lifted up by the waist, the easy manhandling leaving his insides burning. Is this a kink? It probably is. 

 

Peter is sat upright on Bucky’s lap, his flexible legs spread either side of the man’s thighs, the erection in the soldier’s pants rubbing against Peter’s leaking cock. 

 

The boy can’t help the guttural moan that leaves him, gyrating his hips downwards involuntarily, and Bucky kneads his pert ass, squeezing the mounds in one of his hands while the other tugs at the waistband of his pajama pants, revealing his own hard dick.

 

Oh my god. 

 

Peter's eyes are immediately drawn to it, mouth gaping. 

 

You’ve got to be _kidding…_ surely that can’t be real? W-what… how? Is Peter seeing things right now? 

 

Bucky’s cock is _huge_ , long and thick, veins running along the sides, looking absolutely fucking beautiful. Compared to Peter’s slightly above average size, his is easily double, triple that.

 

Peter gulps, a scorching heat pooling in his lower stomach. God... how would that feel, inside of him? Stretching him open, filling him up- 

 

Bucky chuckles deeply once he sees the boy staring at his appendage with a lustful hunger, and he grips both of their cocks, rubbing them together, startling a sharp groan out of the boy as he clings onto him desperately. 

 

As much as Bucky would love to fuck Peter, sweet and slow, turning the teen into a complete moaning mess that’s begging for _faster_ and _harder-_ and then he’ll start pounding into Peter so ruthlessly that he won’t be able to walk the next day- Bucky will have to leave that for another time. 

 

The soldier strokes their cocks together, the slide smooth and slow, and it’s good- _so so good-_ Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget something like this, ever. 

 

Peter pants out inarticulate words with half-lidded eyes, his arms clasped strongly around Bucky’s neck, fingernails digging into his back. The older brunet hums, gently nibbling and sucking on Peter’s collarbone and throat, adding to the collection of love bites already there, while jerking them off at a gradually increasing pace. 

 

“B-Bucky- ahh,” Peter can’t help but thrust his hips up into Bucky’s hand, trying to get more of the sweet friction. He’s getting close- so close- _oh-_  

 

When the soldier strokes Peter’s flushed, leaking cock one more time, Peter throws his head back in pure euphoria as a tidal wave of pleasure surges throughout his entire body. His eyes are clenched shut as breathy, high-pitched mewls escape his swollen lips, cock twitching as his cum spills all over Bucky’s hand. Bucky continues to stroke him through his orgasm with his slick fingers, until eventually he’s cumming too, biting down on Peter’s shoulder as trembles wrack his frame. 

 

“ _Fuck_ , Peter…” Bucky pants heavily, his head resting in the crook of the teen’s neck and they stay like that for a moment. 

 

But Steve is impatient, and he takes hold of Peter, the two super soldiers swapping positions. Now Bucky is the one behind him, and Steve is in front, settling himself in between Peter’s thighs, his warm breath tickling his cock. Peter’s breath hitches, feeling still too sensitive, but his dick doesn’t seem to get the memo as it perks up again, hardening fully. Dammit. 

 

Steve played with his cock, rubbing the tip against his wet lips and _fuck_ , Peter never knew that the man was such a goddamn _tease_ . He laps at the cum still dribbling out of the top, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly moves his head down, further, further, until _oh-_  

 

When he’s fully enveloped in the wet warmth of Steve’s mouth, Peter almost cums again right then and there, if it weren’t for the man’s secure grip around the base of his cock. Peter flings his head back onto Bucky’s chest, the older brunet rubbing at his nipples as a staccato of whimpers and gasps escape him.

 

For the first blowjob Peter’s ever had, it’s fucking amazing. Steve can take his whole length effortlessly in his mouth, and when Peter glances down, seeing Steve’s eyes shut, bobbing his head up and down slowly- another spurt of precum gushes out at the mesmerising sight, and Steve eagerly swallows it up. 

 

Christ. 

 

When Steve licks a certain spot, Peter’s hand flies to the blond’s hair immediately, lightly tugging at his locks. “Ah- Steve-” Peter pants out, his toes curling. “So good… ahh-” 

 

Steve feels a sinful kind of satisfaction within him, knowing that he was making the boy feel this way. He pumps his own cock, already growing close, but he intends on making Peter cum first. 

 

He purposely twirls his tongue around the slit, and it makes Peter arch his back beautifully, his loud watery moan echoing off the walls. 

 

“Oh mygod- _S-Steve_ !” Peter trembles, he’s not going to last any longer- he can’t, he _can’t_ - 

 

Bucky bites gently onto Peter’s ear, eyes burning with intensity. “Come for us, _Peter_.” 

 

And that’s all it took- that’s all Peter needed before he’s cumming for a third time, caught halfway in a silent scream as an earth-shattering orgasm rips through his core- strong and intense, making his muscles spasm uncontrollably as his cum shoots up into Steve’s mouth. 

 

That seems to do it for Steve, as his back shudders noticeably, eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as he spills into his own hand, still sucking Peter off. Steve moans around him, the vibrations tingling his cock, and it’s suddenly too _much-_ he can’t take it, can’t handle it anymore- and tears are falling down Peter’s face. 

 

“Shh, there we go, such a good boy,” Bucky murmurs, consoling, while pressing soft kisses to his hair, wiping away the tears with his thumb. “You’ve done so well, doll.” 

 

Peter is shaking, so utterly blissed out and overwhelmed as Steve swallows every last drop of his cum, taking his sweet time, and the teen whines once his cock eventually leaves the warmth of his wet mouth with an audible ‘pop’. The blond stares up at Peter with a teasing smile, pressing a gentle kiss onto the boy’s stomach before moving away. 

 

He lies there on the bed- a heap of twitching limbs as he tries to catch his breath. Peter’s mind is foggy and filled with cotton- and the only thing he’s vaguely aware of is Bucky massaging his scalp, stroking his brown curls and the sound of the bathtub water running before his heavy eyelids close shut once again, praises and reassurances echoing in his ears. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a very special place reserved for me in HELL


	10. We need to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big oOf-

In the communal kitchen, Scott and Sam are making breakfast, the aromatic smell of pancake batter and waffles filling the air. One by one, more people are trickling into the large room, lounging around comfortably while some others are either busy or still asleep. 

 

It’s nearing 9am, and usually everyone would be together by now. Tony notices Peter isn’t here, but the billionaire figures he might still be sleeping, since he knows people his age these days can sleep well into the afternoon. He’ll get FRIDAY to wake the boy up once breakfast is ready. 

 

However… Tony narrows his eyes, realising that Steve and Bucky aren’t here either. 

 

“Hey, have any of you guys seen the fossils around?” he asks, gulping down his coffee. 

 

Sam hums, “No, haven’t seen them since yesterday,” 

 

Clint lifts his head up abruptly from the couch, almost head butting Nat in the face. The woman gives him a short glare. “Same. Thinking about it now… where are they? Have they gone on their morning run?”

 

Nat shakes her head, “Even if they did, they should’ve been back over an hour ago. Unless…” the assassin makes eye contact with Wanda from across the room, both of them thinking the same thing. Clint notices this. 

 

“Hey hey hey what’s this? What’s this weird-” he gestures to the air, “-conversation you guys are having with your eyes right now?” the archer asks, staring at the girls who had matching smirks on their faces. 

 

“Yeah, care to share with the class?” Scott says. 

 

Wanda giggles, “Nah, I don’t think we will.” 

 

Tony scoffs, rolling his eyes. There’s an easier way to find out exactly where they are. 

 

“Where’s Capsicle and Frosty, FRI?” 

 

**“On Mr. Roger’s floor, Boss.”**

 

Oh? So they are still in the Tower, at least… maybe they just wanted a quiet morning to themselves. That wouldn’t be unusual. 

 

“By the way, could you wake Peter up for me, tell him breakfast is ready and to come down to the communal kitchen.” 

 

Thor stands up, “Worry not, Stark. I shall go and awaken our dearest Man of Spiders personally-” but he’s interrupted by the AI. Tony squints even more.

 

**“I’m… afraid that Mr. Parker is… currently indisposed.”**

 

“ _ Indisposed _ ? What the hell do you mean by that?” The man asks incredulously. 

 

**“...”**

 

“FRIDAY.” Tony deadpans. “Where is Peter?” 

 

**“Mr. Parker is also on Mr. Roger’s floor, Boss. Or…  more precisely, inside his bedroom.”**

 

Everyone’s ears perk up at this, and suddenly they’re more awake and alert than they were a few seconds ago.

 

Hold on a fucking moment. 

 

“...and  _ why _ is Peter inside Steve’s bedroom, exactly?” Sam questions, a hint of jealousy prickling his tone. 

 

**“It appears that they slept together last night.”**

 

A few things happen all at once; Clint falls off the sofa backwards, Sam drops his plate and Tony spits out his coffee, spraying poor Scott in the hot liquid, who just whispers a tiny  _ ‘aw man’ _ as he looks down at his damp clothes. 

 

“They  _ what _ ? Sorry, but did I hear that correctly? Guys, did FRIDAY just say what I think she said?” 

 

No one replies to Tony, and there is a momentary silence, everyone either shocked or still processing the information. But before anyone else could say a word, FRIDAY chirps up once more. 

 

**“Ah, I’m sorry, Boss, I seem to have phrased my sentence incorrectly, as many people would associate ‘sleeping together’ as an activity in regards to sex. However, this is not the case for Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Parker. They simply only slept next to each other during the course of the evening.”**

 

Ah. Right then. 

 

“Oh, okay.” Tony rubs his temple, sighing deeply. “Christ, FRI, you almost gave me a heart attack.” 

 

A few others sigh in relief as well. They’re not bothered by the issue of Peter having sex with any of them, not at all, but more bothered by the fact that they haven’t  _ discussed _ it yet. It’s the elephant in the room. They needed to have... some sort of meeting, preferably without Peter first, talking about their intentions with the boy because it’s clear to see how everyone feels about him. And once they come to an agreement, they’ll speak to Peter about it… and see where things go from there, they suppose. 

 

They’d actually liked Spider-Man for a long time before they knew what his name was and what he looked like. How could they not fall in love with someone so sweet and so brave? Last night- when he pulled off his mask to show his beautiful face -was honestly the breaking point for all of them. 

 

It was the moment they realised that they just  _ had _ to have him. Christ, Peter has the uncanny ability to make them swoon like lovesick teenagers, and he isn’t even  _ aware _ of it. 

 

Just as they had managed to get their thoughts organised, FRIDAY breaks the silence once more. 

 

**“However, they did indeed engage in sexual activities this morning.”** She snitches. 

 

Thor flips over the coffee table, someone yells  _ ‘those bastards!’ _ and the whole room descends into chaos.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t have any clean clothes with me…” Peter says shyly, bundled up in a fluffy white towel. The super soldiers had helped him bathe, and even though Peter insisted he was fine on his own, he eventually gave in and let them do what they wanted. 

 

At first Peter thought it would be awkward, but it wasn’t at all. Instead, the teenager was so relaxed with Bucky combing his fingers through his hair and Steve lathering his body with soap that he almost fell asleep again. 

 

“That’s okay, you can use one of mine,” Steve says, grabbing a shirt out of his closet and handing it to Peter. And after the boy puts it on… 

 

_ Crap _ . He really didn’t think this through. Steve coughs into his hand and Bucky has to avert his eyes slightly. 

 

The shirt is  _ way _ too big. It ends at the middle of Peter’s thighs, and the collar is slipping off his shoulders, but it makes him look  _ so _ fucking adorable. 

 

Peter fumbles around, looking for something. “I need to get my phone, I think I left it in the other room…” 

 

But before Peter left, Steve gently grabbed him by the waist and pulled him close enough to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. Bucky did the same thing on the other side. 

 

When he made it into the hallway, FRIDAY intones through the speakers,  **“Mr. Parker? Mr. Stark wants to let you know that breakfast is ready in the communal kitchen.”**

 

“Oh! Thank you, FRIDAY. I’ll be there in a second. And you can call me Peter, please,” he smiles. 

 

**“Of course, Peter.”**

 

Peter walks silently back to the room- which he’s only now realised Tony must’ve carried him into in the first place- and he can’t help but think he’s died and gone to heaven. 

 

* * *

 

“Steve, that goddamn hypocrite! Didn’t he say that being a team was all about communication or some crap like that?”

 

“You morons better calm the fuck down, right now.” Natasha glares at them angrily, and Wanda has her arms crossed. 

 

“Calm down? I’m sorry, you’re telling us to  _ calm down _ ? Those two senior citizens could be fucking Peter as we speak! We haven’t talked about it yet, but they went ahead and pulled this shit on us! Do you think they care about how we feel?” Tony flails his arms dramatically, pouting. 

 

Sam tries to intervene, “Now now, deep breaths, let’s think about this rationally, like the proper, civil  _ adults _ that we are-” 

 

“Oh screw you, Wilson!”

 

“He has a point though, there’s no use in riling ourselves up about it,” Scott mumbles quietly. 

 

“Indeed,” Vision agrees, and Bruce who’s sat beside him nods as well. 

 

Clint stood off to the side, trying to keep a blank face. What happened last night… it wasn’t planned. 

 

He couldn’t help himself- how could he just leave it? It was an accident, he was just crawling through the vents when he heard a soft moan that he’d now forever be hearing in his wet dreams, and flushed in arousal when realising it was coming from  _ Peter _ . 

 

He didn’t intend to stay- he meant to leave quickly, only being there for a few seconds, but then Scott just had to go and knock on the door. God, the idiot. If only he knew what was happening on the other side, he’d beat himself to death for interrupting. 

 

Clint frowned as he saw Peter go into the hallway. The kid looked too red, too jittery, and didn’t even get to finish. 

 

Jesus, what was he to do? Leave Peter to suffer or help him get off? 

 

Clint, of course; chose the latter, and convinced himself it was all for Peter’s own well-being, when in reality he was relishing in his own selfish desires. Guilt festers in the back of his mind, and he can’t help but feel like he took advantage of Peter in that moment. 

 

Dammit, if only he had more self control. He just can’t restrain himself, not when it comes to Peter. 

 

So he doesn’t blame Bucky and Steve. And whoever it was that left love bites on Peter’s neck to begin with. 

 

While Clint was thinking, he catches Tony’s eye, and the billionaire is suddenly walking up to him dangerously. 

 

“ _ You _ . You’ve done something, haven’t you? I can sense it.” 

 

Clint rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Oh please, Stark. I haven’t done anything.” 

 

“Liar. I can tell too, it was yesterday, wasn’t it?”

 

“That’s a baseless accusation,” Clint replies, but he couldn’t stop the smirk from emerging on his face.

 

“No no no, my bullshit radar is going off right now, and it’s pointing towards you. Especially with that sly sneaky grin you’ve got. Tell me, did you fuck Peter too?”  

 

“What?! Of course not, you idiot! I didn’t do anything!” There is a chorus of displeased and unbelieving noises before Clint mutters under his breath, “Ok yeah, maybe gave him a handjob or two, but that was about it.” 

 

“ _ Barton! _ ”

 

“Clint, are you serious man?” 

 

“Poor Peter…” 

 

Clint turns his body around scandalously, “Hey, who said that?!” 

 

Tony shakes his head, “Ugh, okay, well- okay,  _ that _ I can deal with, but Steve and Bucky-”

 

“-Did  _ not _ fuck Peter, we can assure you.” Bucky interrupts, walking into the kitchen. Everyone’s eyes snap to him. 

 

“Oh? And you’re telling the truth? And where’s Steve?” As soon as Sam said that, the blond trails into the kitchen casually, pouring himself a glass of cold water. 

 

They appeared nonchalant, too at ease. 

 

Tony narrows his eyes. “...And where’s Peter?”

 

At this, FRIDAY replies for him,  **“Peter said that he’ll be down for breakfast in a short moment.”**

 

As soon as they got the confirmation, everyone began hounding the super soldiers about what they’ve done. 

 

* * *

 

When Peter returns to the room, his jaw opens in shock. 

 

He didn’t properly get to look around last night when he woke up from his nightmare, but now he can see everything clearly. 

 

“Woah…”

 

The room is wide and spacious; but not overly so, and decorated in a basic yet elegant way. Looking up, the ceiling is high, and Peter is thankful for that. He isn’t particularly keen on small spaces. There seems to be some sort of thin panelling along the edges of the walls—lights maybe? Peter can’t say for sure. There’s a big desk to his left with a floor to ceiling bookshelf in the corner, a large walk in wardrobe, some wide windows and an en suite to his right. 

 

Peter’s eyes find his rucksack at the end of the bed, which someone must’ve left for him because  _ he _ definitely doesn’t remember putting it there- and his phone is on the nightstand. 

 

He quickly grabs it, about to go but then he remembers the fluffy pillow on the bed that felt like a cloud… 

 

* * *

 

When Peter finally comes down, he trots into the room, holding onto a pillow. The Avengers all seemed to be in some sort of intense conversation, but as soon as they saw him, all the tension and anger in the air had completely fled. How could they still be mad, especially with what they’re seeing right now? 

 

Messy hair, hickies peeking out of the oversized t-shirt he wears that definitely isn’t his, eyes watering as he yawns adorably- he’s practically  _ glowing _ . 

 

It’s too fucking angelic. 

 

They’re not even mad at Steve and Bucky anymore, not if it means they get to see Peter like  _ this _ . They actually want to thank the two super soldiers now. 

 

Peter blushes, seeing everyone’s eyes on him. “Um. H-Hi everyone,” he nuzzles his head into the pillow his arms are wrapped around, brown hair flopping all over the place. 

 

Their hearts feel like they’ve been shot with a Cupid’s arrow. 

 

“Hey, Peter,” they greet him dopily. 

 

“How’d you sleep?” Tony asks. 

 

Something flickers across Peter’s face for a split second before he smiles, replying, “Really good, thank you. Oh, and Mr. Stark, the room is so nice and big! And the pillows are soft and fluffy and so  _ comfy _ !” 

 

“Yeah? Well, it’s all yours, Pete.” 

 

“Really? It’s mine?” He whispers, eyes wide. 

 

“Yep.” 

 

“Are- are you sure? Like, super super sure?”

 

“ _ Yes _ , Bambi.” 

 

“Ohmigosh thankyousomuch Mr. Stark!” Peter bounces on the balls of his feet giddily, rushing to swoop the older man into a hug- but stops upon realising the childish thing he almost did. Tony just shakes his head fondly and tugs Peter towards him, wrapping him in his arms. 

 

“I’ve told you, Pete, it’s Tony.” He says into his ear, voice low, and Peter flushes bright pink before revealing a mischievous smile. 

 

“Okay sure…  _ Mr. Stark _ .” 

 

Tony groans, “I swear, someone has put you up to this, haven’t they? Who is it? Is it Wilson? Lang?” and Peter pulls away from his chest with the brightest grin on his face, his laughter sounding like bells. 

 

Meanwhile the boys are talking to Peter, Wanda frowns slightly, inspecting him from across the room. There’s this abnormal static energy radiating off from the teenager, dark and oppressive. Natasha tilts her head in question, following Wanda’s line of sight. “...What is it?” 

 

The younger redhead turns back to the conversation they were having, snapping out of her daze. “Hm? Oh, it’s nothing…” 

 

The weird energy shrouding Peter is too faint; barely there, and so Wanda shrugs it off, thinking she’s imagining it. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
